I Felt You Go
by lordsexington
Summary: Sherlock returns and Greg finds out Mycroft knew he was alive the entire time.


**Hello, I'm supposed to be working on a new chapter of my Mystrade fic, but my Mycroft roleplay blog got this prompt and it sparked this tiny story. **

**Prompt:** **"I can't even see my heart as it withdraws from me, and I don't care."**

**Enjoy. **

Gregory and I had plans tonight; we hoped to go to our favorite restaurant. All of these plans were dashed by a brother. Sherlock, he's back. He sat in my front room and watched us walk up the walkway, why did he refuse to hide? He wanted to be discovered, bastard.

I allowed Gregory to walk in first; I wanted him to know, to know that I love him.

It's probably safe to say after tonight that he wouldn't care what I had to say, wouldn't bother answering my call to hear.

There Sherlock sat in my leather chair; he turned and cocked an eye at us.

"Hello Lestrade," he uttered in the silence that had fallen over the room.

Greg's face flushed in a way that I can only assume was anger and embarrassment as he turned to me, I couldn't even manage to compose my face into a suitable expression of surprise, I was too angry. I cannot remember a time I allowed my emotions to rule me in such a way.

"What is this," Greg ground out, eyes blazing in my direction.

"Gregory, I-I can explain," I attempted, searching for my aloof business demeanor; the sentence came out more cheating spouse caught in the act.

Gregory growled and twisted back around to Sherlock.

"And you," he snapped, his finger raising to point at Sherlock accusingly, "Does John know you're home?"

Sherlock blinked, the sardonic smirk slipping from his face, he stood and moved forward to tower over Greg, attempting to intimidate. Greg placed his hands roughly on Sherlock's chest before he shoved him away.

"He doesn't, does he? You're a right bastard Sherlock Holmes," Greg shouted before turning back on me.

"And you! Why don't you say something? Trying to think of a way to lie yourself out of this? Well you can't, Mycroft!"

My mouth hung open unattractively and I know this because Sherlock is ever so kind enough to point it out. Sherlock moves to the door and turns back to look at me and I search his face for his reason, was he simply taking a sick pleasure in ruining this for me? For destroying this small life I've built here with Gregory by my side?

Sherlock looks back into my eyes, searching for something as well, though what he is looking for I'm not sure, eventually he sighs.

"No," it's all he offers before he's out the door, I he effectively answered both mine and Greg's questions, and all in one word, I admire that trait in my brother.

I turn back to Greg, whose jaw is clenched and whose eyes are still ablaze with fury. His eyes are focused on a point behind me, but his eyes are flat, the look of someone whose mind is inhabiting another plane of thought.

"Gregory," I whisper quietly stepping forward carefully, cautious, I still do not know how this night will turn end, reaffirmed ties or broken hearts, we're at the crossroads all that's left for us is to choose our path.

I reach for his hand and at first it seems he's letting me take it, but soon as skin meets actual skin Greg is back, snatching his hand away from my grasp, eyes narrowed in distrust.

"You lied to me," he hisses.

"I'm the government Gregory, I always lie to you," I say attempting humor with a sad smirk, isn't that what one does at dark times, attempt to lighten the mood?

Greg snarls at me and I notice the tears there for the first time. Surrounding the brim of his eyes, threatening to spill over but still trapped against his eyelashes. My heart breaks and I know how this night will end, for me at least. I don't want Greg to hurt as well, hurt as much as I will when he leaves; I vow to make it easier for him.

"You lied to me," Greg repeats, "you lied to all of us."

I smile and it feels false, like a mask that doesn't fit quite right.

"Of course I lied to you, Sherlock needed to finish his game and I had the means to do it, why shouldn't I have? He is my brother."

Greg steps back from me, backing away until his body is pressed against the wall and he's trembling, trembling with the effort of holding in his tears. And I've gone still, still and quiet under the weight of my sorrow.

"Did you even care?" Greg asks and of course I know what he means, and of course I cared, I cared so bloody much, all for you Greg, all for you, I'd set the world aflame all for you.

"No," I lie, it's the only thing left to do, lie to him, make it easy, make him wish he and I had never met, let him move on, it's the only possible outcome for tonight.

"You're a monster," he whispers before he pushes away from the wall and walks rigidly toward the door, our door, my love, goodbye.

"I know," I say and I smile because he trembles with both fury and sorrow, I smile because I know, I've made it easier for him to hate me, made it easier to forget everything he's ever felt for me.

It's okay that he forgets, I'll always remember, I'll always know that what we had, it was true. I'll keep the truth, keep our secret.

"Fuck you," Greg says as he opens the door with a rough jerk, he goes leaving the door open and I go to shut it.

I stop, wishing to catch the last of him before he leaves, but it's dark and I haven't turned the outdoor light on. I cannot even watch as my heart withdraws from me, I do not get even that small comfort, the time I thought I had left is abruptly severed, the knife plunged into my heart before I was ready. A car door slammed and sped away, I felt his absence though I could not see it.

I couldn't even see my heart as it withdrew from me, and now I can admit I never cared.

What a lie.

**What did you guys think?**


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